Insatiable
by SensuallyPassionate
Summary: When Ororo returns to the University after a year of self-imposed solitude, she only plans on visiting for a few days. But what happens when an old flame ignites a forbidden passion of love, lust, jealousy, sex, and romance? Will the newly married Ororo remain faithful to her husband? Or will she fall back into the arms of the one that truly holds her heart?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am done procrastinating. I am ready for my second installment to my Ororo/Logan franchise. I am a much seasoned writer than I was when I began so rewrites of my first fanfiction of this paring will happen accordingly. In the meantime, feel free to read 'Mi amor corazon' and get caught up to speed. Enjoy my twisted dark fantasies. **

**Chapter theme song: 'Impossible' by Shontelle **

'_I choose me'_

It was the last thing I had said to Logan before I left one year ago. I had packed my suitcase before I had even thought about confronting Logan. The beast. I only packed the essentials; leaving my endless collection of Jimmy Choo sling-backs and array of expensive makeup in my walk-in closet and atop my glass vanity. I packed my intimates, grabbed a few shirts, three pairs of slacks, four skirts, a dress, socks, and a tooth brush. Everything else I was going to buy as I went along; seeing as how I grabbed every penny I had in the industrialized safe tucked behind my headboard. I didn't say goodbye to anyone, not even the professor. I just left. I had no direction, no map, nothing. I allowed my broken heart to guide me away from the university and forced myself to not look back; my faint of heart trying to coax me out of my decision of leaving the only home I ever knew. I left…I left.

"You ok, baby?" Warm hands parted my thighs as hardness was positioned before my clothed entrance. The black silk negligee I graced within his presence glistened from the stray chords of moonlight that peaked from behind the satin curtains of our bedroom. His warm, masculine hands began to roam my inner-thighs as small feather like kisses began to trail along the contours of my outer thigh; moving slowly upward into the darkness of my silk lingerie. "You look as if something is on your mind."

I swallowed hard and bit my bottom lip. I gazed into his hazel eyes as they filled the brim with concern and worry. I forced a small smile. "T'Challa, you worry too much baby." I leaned forward to kiss him, my silver tendrils cloaking my exposed breasts and part of my face. He enjoyed when I did that. He said it made me look…sensual. "I'm fine."

"I know you better than this, Ororo." He returned the kiss, daring not to deepen it in an effort to not start what we may not be able to finish. "Something is on your mind."

"It's nothing."

"Bull crap and you know it, Ro." T'Challa hated to swear and only swore when he was in a fit of rage. "Spill it."

Sighing, I ran a small patch of my hair behind my ear and eyed my husband. "I keep thinking about…well…"

"You want to go back don't you?" his voice trailed off like a sad song before he looked away onto anything but me. He took in a breath and ran a single hand over his freshly cut hair. "Ro…"

"I have a life with you, T'Challa." I maneuvered myself into his lap and forced him to look at me; grabbing his baby smooth face. "You are my husband."

"I understand that, Ororo but I can tell you hate it here."

"I do not!" I shot back defensively. "It's just different as all. Europe is not exactly like the states, babe."

"So you are content in staying here?"

I nodded, smiling. I gave him a small peck on the lips before pushing him against our never ending fortress of pillows. T'Challa has an obsession with pillows and insisted we buy as many as we could during the IKEA semi-annual sale. Silently, I got atop of my beloved and moved my hair back to expose my pert mounds. I could see him get that ravenous look in his eye as he began to claw at that sensitive spot in the crook of my back he knew drove me wild; becoming my own signature _Black Panther. _I moaned and began to unbutton the remaining loose buttons of his night shirt, exposing his midnight flesh and toned stomach.

"You sure, Ro?"

"About this?" I placed a heated kiss upon his lips before I ended up tearing the damned shirt open. "Yes. I want this."

He chuckled deeply before removing me. I shot him a quizzical glare. "I meant about being here, in London."

"Yes…I am."

"Would you want to go visit Professor Xavier?"

I perked up at the thought. I hadn't seen the only man I considered to be my father in over a year. So much has happened since then. For starters I was now married and apart of the X-men in the UK. I'm sure he knew about that part, but highly doubtful of the marriage one. He had tried to get in contact me with telepathically but I was one of the only few mutants he had shown how to block his messages; so I did. It wasn't out of spite, I just needed time. Time to be by myself. Thinking about seeing the professor again made my heart elated. I could not help but wonder how things have changed since I left. Did kitty and Kirk ever hook up? Did Rogue perfect control of her powers? How…Logan was doing? So many unanswered questions that I simply needed to know. I looked at T'Challa and nodded. I knew me going back to the university was his worst fear realized. He knew he had found me at my most vulnerable of times but always loathed the moment this day would come.

I watched him swallow. "Then go."

"T'Challa…"

"Go, Ororo." He spoke again, this time with more bass in his voice. "I will buy you a plane ticket first thing in the morning for the next flight back to the states. You can go visit the professor and the rest of your family for a few days."

Small tears began to trail down my face as I embraced my husband in a tight hug. I began weeping onto his hardened chest as he placed small butterfly kisses upon my forehead. "Thank you."

"I'm trusting you, Ororo."

I looked at T'Challa and kissed him passionately. "My home and my heart is with you, T'Challa. If I leave tomorrow, I will be back by the weekend at best. I just want to see the professor and check on the only home I knew before this one."

He smiled and ran the bed of his thumb against the tender softness of my check, rubbing away the stray trails of tears. "Then you must go. " He placed his other hand behind me, cupping my amble backside and bringing my taut body closer to his hard one I felt a familiar sensation ignite inside of me. We shared another kiss. "But not before I give you a 'Safe Travels' present."

"Oh?" he nodded before flipping me over, placing me against the endless assortment of silk and satin cream kissed pillows. "And what might that be?"

"A baby."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Seeing as how I am planning on being away from my laptop for about a week or so, I decided to update a bit earlier than anticipated. I made this chapter a bit shorter than I normally would but the next chapter will be quite long ^_^. I am trying to get back into the spirit of updating. I don't want years to go by anymore. Enjoy my dark twisted fantasies. **

**Chapter theme song: 'I need a doctor' by: Eminem ft. Skylar Grey and Dr. Dre**

**Logan**

"What is it, kitty?"

"The Brotherhood will attack us upfront?"

"Don't doubt it for a second, Bub." I paused and took a small sip of my coffee. As usual it was stale and lukewarm. The damn coffee in the break room was always stale and lukewarm because some people, Scott-Pretty-Boy-Summers, tend to make it too damn early in the morning before anyone has a chance to wash the must off their balls. "The professor said to be ready for anything and everything. That means even the newbie freshmen need to get their act right and get in some serious trainin'."

Kurt raised his hand. "Uhm, professor Logan, should we be concerned? Magneto is a force to be reckoned with and we are drastically outnumbered." A small wave of chatter erupted from scared-pantless students- mostly freshman. I rolled my eyes. " Should we be the least bit concerned?

"Kurt, do me a favor."

"Yes?"

"Shut up. The Brotherhood has jacksh- I mean nothing on us, alright?" I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. I had a migraine something serious and it was not even noon. I detested the fact the old guy made me combat instructor. He said, and I quote: "You are carnal; kids now days need that animalistic instinct to come out in battle. Teach them that." Yeah, right. These kids are soft as goddamn marshmallows and second guess their instincts. I can't teach Darwinism 101. "Anymore stupid questions?"

There was silence. I was relieved. "Good. Now grab a sparin' partner and get ready to learn hand-to-hand combat. Using your God-given mutant abilities only gets you so far during battle. A true warrior knows how to use their fists as lethal weapons."

I watched silently as the small hoard of students paired and suited up for the day's combat lessons. I was supposed to be teaching this course with Scott-Pretty-Boy-Summers but I could not last ten minutes with that kiss ass. Always by the book and calling for strategy. There is nothing strategic about saving your own ass in the heat of the moment. Scott would resort to some mantra he had recently learned in one of his nerd books to diffuse the situation. I, on the latter, would let the sons-of-bitches meet good ol' Betsy and Martha. We differ in teaching methods, but also in personality. He is air and I am fire. Day and Night. Given the chance, I'd gut the poor fish if it wasn't for those weapons of mass destruction he called eye sockets. Even personality and teaching methodology aside, he and I could not be in a room for more than a few seconds; unless the old guy wanted to risk his institute have some major cosmetic repairs done as result. Ever since he found out about my on and off affair with Jean, we have allowed mass tension to build up between the two of us as a last ditch effort to avoid conflict. The moment has yet to present itself, but when it does WW3 couldn't compare to the showdown that would take place.

"Hurry it up ya' sissies!" I roared, making my way to the door to meet an amused Charles Xavier. "I ain't got all damn day!"

"You sure are great with children, Logan."

I scoffed and flipped the old man the bird. He chuckled and entered the classroom, earning delighted greetings from my students. I groaned and followed. "Hello students. I hope Professor Logan is being nice to you all." He turned to look at me. I remained stoic. "He can be…difficult from time to time but give him a chance."

"Got that right." I heard Jubilee retort, earning a group laugh. I rolled my eyes and took out one of the cigars I had in my pocket, digging through the other to find my spare lighter. I lit it and whispered some type of profanity back in that direction before earning another round of laughter. Damn kids.

"I do not want to take away from your combat training because we are at the brink of war."

"Are we safe here, professor?" Angel asked. "Should we call the other assembly of X-men?"

"It has already been taken care of, Angel. This is the safest place on the planet I can guarantee you that. The X-men in South America, Asia, and Europe remain on stand-by just in case an all-out war erupts between the Brotherhood and the X-men. We far outnumber the Brotherhood as far as recruits go but as far as the soldiers they do have, they are well-trained, seasoned mutants and we do not want to risk any casualties. Training is more imperative than before and I need every eye, ear, and mind alert. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor." We all spoke in unison. It was refreshing to see the old man give a stern talking to every once in a while and not sugar coat the hard, cold facts. The Brotherhood was undoubtedly stronger than the X-men. It was crucial as much training and exercises be put into place to prepare even the smallest of heroes for combat. Magneto never was one to play fair.

"Good." He nodded in agreement. "Good. Now that all the important business in taken care of, I have special news to report; which I why I stopped in this morning before overhearing Kurt's question and professor Logan's much…anticipated remark."

"I aim to please." I headed back over to my desk and grabbed my forgotten cup of pathetic coffee, silently cursing that damn Summers.

"We will be having a special visitor from the X-men: UK division drop by within the next few hours for a few days. This person will be a special guest lecturer in hand-to-hand combat with Professor Logan and be a breath of fresh air to this institute." The professor paused, smiling. I raised an eyebrow. "This person may be a familiar face to some, most of your actually, so please extend yourselves with open arms when _she_ arrives."

"She?"

"Yes, there are many female members of the X-men, despite the name, Spike."

I watched kitty and Jubilee nudge the grumbling youth before excitingly asking who the mystery guest would be. My guess was the kick-ass chick, Afrikaa. I saw the woman in action during an epic battle overseas against Mystique. She was heavily skilled with the machete and a master swordsman. If not Afrikaa, Black Axe's daughter, Eleyna. She was deadly; drastically resembled her father not only physically but skillfully. She may be rather young, but was as lethal as they come.

"Our very own Ororo Monroe will be visiting the university for the next few days and co-instructing the class with Professor Logan. I am sure you all will make Ororo feel much at home."

I spit out my coffee, earning a few quizzical stares. Damn it all! "…Ororo is coming…back?"

Professor Xavier nodded. "Logan, if you and I need to talk in private…"

"Why is she coming back? Why after a goddamn year as she decided to grace us with her presence? She joined the X-men UK division?" So many questions coursed through my mind that I had little time to absorb the fact that the only woman that had the ability to make me feel…human was set to arrive on campus within a few hours. What was I to say to her? Would she even want to see me?

"Logan, you and I will discuss matters on a more personal level a bit later. Until then, you have a class to teach and I have a barbeque to plan for Ororo's arrival."

"We're having a party, professor?" Kitty exclaimed, excited. Everyone was gleefully chatting it up about the upcoming arrival of the legendary Ororo Monroe. She would be a new face to some but most knew her and knew her well. If anything, she was an older sister figure to a lot of the young women in the university and the 'first crush' to a vast majority of the little boys with raging hormones. "Can Rogue and I make a cake for Storm?"

"She always did love our baking, Professor."

He nodded, pleased at the reaction of the young women and men of my class. "You most certainly may. I do not oppose of anything special you may want to bring to the table to help commemorate this special occasion."

"How long will she be staying?"

"Only a few days unfortunately; She and her husband, Black Panther, have confidential X-Men business back in London that need their undying attention. Remember, we are still on the job. "

Husband!? Husband!?

"…Ororo…is married?" I managed to whisper, gaining a even more wondering eyes. "When did this happen?"

The professor had overheard me mumble under my breath and led me out into the hallway for a small breath of air. I silently took a long, well-deserved drag of my forgotten cigar and blew the smoke against a nearby wall. Charles remained silent, observant. He knew about my rendezvous with both Jean and Ororo and knew Ororo's reasoning for leaving so abruptly the way she did. He never said anything about her disappearance, not once. Though I could never fully understand what went on inside Xavier's head half the time, it was uncertain if he blamed me for Storm leaving. Out of all people, it was expected she at least say goodbye to him. He was the closest thing to a father she has had since her folks died back when she was still a young girl. I couldn't help but wonder, did he blame me? Was all of this really my fault? Did Ororo really leave because I couldn't keep it in my pants?

"Logan…"

I cut him off. "Professor, I'm sorry alright. I mucked up…everything." I growled, slamming my fists against the classroom door in a fit of sudden rage. I really did mess things up this time. "I never should have fooled around wit' both Jean and Ro'. Ro' had real love for me and I screwed that up along wit' everything else."

He sighed. "Logan, your involvement with both Jean and Ororo had some part in her leaving but it may have been much deeper than what appeared on the surface. She seemed troubled, not just with you."

I scoffed, taking another hit of my cigar. "Professor, I ruined Ro'. I should have gotten the hints when I saw she was hurtin' herself cuz' I was too stupid to see what I was doing to her."

"What are you talking about, Logan?"

I eyed the professor before taking another hit. I breathed in. out. "Ororo was self-mutilating for a bit. I caught her wit' some strange scars on her wrists one evening and she swore it was nothin' so I left it alone. I should have acted sooner. She displayed signs of depression but I thought it was just a phase."

"You knew about Ororo having mental issues and did not report it to me?!" his voice rose a notch, I stepped back. "Logan! How stupid can you be?!"

"I know, I know, alright? I should have said somthin' but I didn't want to believe it. C'mon, would you? The beautiful, talented, intelligent Ororo Monroe resorting to using some makeshift razor to cut herself to relieve stress? That sounds like a fairy tale in my book, Bub."

"That may be so but I would have looked into it, Logan. We take those kind of accusations very seriously. Given the predicament you put her in, I would have found to believe it!"

I got defensive. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it said." He moved several inches closer, tapping the foot of my brown leather boots with his stainless steel wheels. "You and your selfishness caused Ororo to resort to mutilating herself and you didn't tell me! She could have killed herself, Logan!"

"I get it, alright!?" I roared, punching the door again with much more vigor and rage. I left a rather large dent and loosened a few hinges. I could hear my class of students crowd against the door but I didn't give a damn. I was becoming frustrated at my own faults. The professor was right and as much as I wanted to convince myself he was wrong, he wasn't. I should have said something. I should have been by her side and been there to aid her when she needed me most. I should have never even put her through that amount of heartache. No wonder Ororo left and married another man…I sure as hell was not worthy.

Xavier grew quiet. A long time passed before either of us spoke again. "Logan…what was going on between you three? Why did things happen the way they did?"

"Because of my own insatiable desires." I ran sweaty hand through my dampened mane and let out a small sigh. "I grew greedy and wanted my cake and eat it too."

"Do you love Ororo? Did you ever love her?"

"Of course I loved Ororo, I still do! The night she went AWOL I sort of told her that I wanted to be with her but needed more time."

"For?"

"I don't know, Professor, damn! Get all the excess sex out of my system I guess. Ororo liked passionate, slow love and Jean craved raw and ravenous. I wanted the best of both worlds, I guess." I took another well-deserved hit of my cigar, extinguishing against the pant leg of my denim jeans shortly after. "I loved Jean and Ro', but Ororo had my heart and she knew it."

I watched the old man let out an uncomfortable cough. I chuckled. "Logan, I was once a young stallion myself. I was not always old and handicapped. I had my fair share of gorgeous women and was once in the same predicament."

I scoffed. " Dirty dog."

He grinned. "We all have our skelatons, Logan. Not even I am exempt; but it is how you choose to deal with it that makes you a man."

"What do you suggest?"

"Ororo will arrive this evening around six. I was going to send either Kitty or Kurt to retrieve her but I want you to go get her." I started to speak but he cut me off with the rising of his hand. He continued. "Talk to her, apologize, make things right. It may not happen overnight but it will lift a weight from your shoulders."

"What if she wants nothing to do with me, Professor? What if I burned that bridge for good?"

"Only she can answer that, Logan. Until then, try and mend the broken bond between you and Ororo. I know she loved you…real love and as a man that has experienced that kind of love that happens only once in a lifetime, it never truly deteriorates. If she truly loves you, she will forgive you."

"I guess…" was my only reply.

"Give it some thought; in the meantime you have a class to teach and judging by the heavy amount of whispering that can be heard through the door, your entire class was eavesdropping on our entire conversation."

"Damn kids!" I yelled. The sounds of feet scurrying away from the room door echoed throughout the small corridor.

Xavier chuckled, maneuvering down the hallway. "Six this evening, Logan. Do not forget."

I couldn't even if I had tried.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter theme song: 'A Thousand Years' by: Christina Perri**

**Ororo**

I had postponed my trip back to the states because of an emergency between the X-Men UK division and the Brotherhood. Magneto had sent a viral message to members of the parliament threatening the Olympic Games with a mass attack of a mutant uprising. The X-men were required to stay within the city for added measure on security against any attack Magneto may have had planned. For three weeks, I barely got sleep from being on call all hours of the day; staying next to my phone all hours of the night, going through extra intense training courses to improve my combat skills, doing 4 a.m. patrols of the skies in the city to look for abnormalities, everything. T'Challa was assigned to be part of the elite members of the X-Men that would become personal security for members of the government as well as the royal family. I had barely seen my husband before my departure and it saddened me. The morning I was supposed to leave, he was called away to handle a minor crime against the cities slums from some gang of teenagers and a few fresh mutants with ulterior agendas and then called to the city's capital for a briefing on the threat of Magneto. I was released from my duties early due to a poor response; Magneto clearly not making good on his threat against the games. T'Challa, however, was required to stay on guard as a precautionary measure. I had the ability to see him for an hour or so to say goodbye and kiss him farewell. I was on the 11:36 flight out from London on Delta Airlines and headed back home. As much as I would miss my husband and my new found life in London, I was anxious to get back and see my family and become greeted with the warm smiles and hugs of those I loved.

I took a taxi from the airport to a small, secluded lagoon where a private plane was waiting to pick me up. The pilot was a middle-aged fisherman that owned part of the lagoon and some of the land east of it. He was good friends with the professor and had a daughter that attended the academy. He had met the professor upon discovering his youngest daughter, Arielle, was gifted with special powers dealing with shape-shifting. The two became close friends and with the professor being the generous, kind-hearted person he is, he allowed the fisherman's daughter to attend the university on his dime. The Institute is already a government subsidized institution that gives young mutants the solace of being amongst those similar to themselves and the opportunity to advance and harness their unique abilities; but there were minor fees that needed to be paid annually to keep costs down for everyone. I met the fisherman after nine hours of sitting in an uncomfortable, stuffy seat next to a crying toddler and a pervy old-man that insisted on taking a peek down my shirt. It took a lot of willpower not to retaliate with some smartass remark, but I took the latter and stuffed my ear buds in my ear for the duration of my flight. He greeted me with a warm smile and introduced himself as Marty Wilson. It only took Marty a little under an hour to fly me to the dock where a car was waiting to take me home. I took it upon myself to take a small nap during my small plane ride. The ride was much smoother than the one coming from London and much less rowdy. If anything, it was tranquil and coaxed me into slumber. Seeing the pine whisk away against the soothing, cobalt waters of the lagoon below against the marvel of the orange, red, and pink colors of the autumn sunset were natured scenery from a dream. I enjoyed the view from my plane ride with Marty Wilson for the short time I stayed awake.

We arrived at the dock a little after six in the evening. I was met with the cool, brisk kiss of the night air mixed in with the precipitation from the lagoon. I wore a cashmere sweater with a deep V-neck plunge , denim blue jeans, and a pair of white suede pumps and it did very little to help me stay warm. I heightened my fashion sense ever since I came to London. I used to be a very conservative dresser and did very little to tempt the eye of even the smallest fashion guru. I was not very self-confident and into makeup and glamour the way I am now. I wore my occasional sling-backs and red-lipstick when called for but was mostly a simple t-shirt and jeans girl. T'Challa was the reason I became so spoiled and into myself. He was an 'expensive' shopper that was obsessed with name-brand and high-fashion. All he donned was Armani, Lacoste, Gucci for men, and other high-end labels that only the fabulously wealthy and famous could afford. I went from shopping at thrift stores for my clothing to searching through racks of the Chanel and Dior boutiques in London. T'Challa never spared an expense on my happiness and it was another reason why I loved him the way I did. It was not for his endless pockets and vast bank account, but because he was as selfless as he was generous. He wanted me happy before himself and took the time to rebuild my self-esteem instead of using my lack thereof to his advantage.

I thanked Marty and gave him a generous tip, watching him fly off. I turned to the car that was parked near the shoulder of the dock and tugged my luggage. I was a mixture of emotions. I was happy, anxious, nervous, excited, sad. I hated being away from my husband but I was finally home. It had been eating me up for a long time about how I left without saying a word. No letters, phone calls, anything. I was actually surprised the professor extended an invitation for me to stay a couple of days without question. Approaching the car, my driver stepped out to greet me and my heart suddenly dropped. Facing me after a long year was the last person I _needed_ to see…Logan…my beast. He still looked the same, only much more…toned. His facial hair was still as rugged as I remembered but nicely kept and trimmed, his hair was still molded into his notorious crown of two, small devil-like peaks, and his wardrobe was just as gruff and laid-back. The only thing different was the size and detail of his physique. Logan was very much in shape before but now…he could rival even the mightiest of Greek Gods. His six-pack was now an eight, his chest was bigger, tougher, and his arms were much more chiseled than before I left. I could not make out much detail from the outline of his jeans, but they hugged him a bit tighter than I remembered and could faintly trace the contours of his toned thighs and calves. I stood, awe-stricken as he and I glanced at each other. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, trying to find the right words to say as he grabbed my suitcases and put them into the trunk. He moved to open my door and allowed me to step in, still eyeing me, silent. I gulped loudly as I shakily put on my seatbelt, looking in every direction but Logan's as he entered the vehicle and put the keys in the ignition. There were so many unspoken words and subconscious emotions that were beginning to surface between the both of us that it was uncertain on how to properly handle the situation. I was the first to speak to break the tension.

"Hi, Logan."

He looked at me, turning the keys, starting the car. There was a small sigh. "Ro'."

"How are you?"

"Well, Darlin'.How are you?"

"Well."

"Heard you been overseas in the inglorious United Kingdom."

I chuckled. He still had his dry, sarcastic sense of humor that I grew to adore. "London, and yes, I have."

There was another moment of silence as we sat, not knowing what to say to each other. Part of me wanted to be enveloped into his strong arms in a hug and the other wanted nothing to do with the ferocious beast. He was the reason I left in the first place. I pulled a few strands of my hair behind my ear and adjusted myself. From the corner of my eye, I could feel Logan stiffen and heard him release a low growl. He clenched his jaw together, gritting his teeth. "Something the matter?"

"No." he replied icily.

"Oh." There was another veil of silence. I felt him turn to me and grab my hand.

"It's good to have ya' back darlin'; everyone missed ya' sumthin' terrible. It wasn't the same having ya' not around with your wisdom and all."

I smiled. "I missed everyone too…"

More silence. I pulled my hand away and placed it in my lap, beginning to fiddle with the silver buckle of my purse. Logan scoffed. "I see you evolved in your dressing habits."

"Is this not to your liking?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter what I think, Ro'." He scanned me and fell amongst the valley of my breasts through the plunge of my sweater. He breathed in heavily, squeezing the leather steering wheel. "And you look even more beautiful than I remember."

I blushed. Logan was much calmer, more personal this time around and it was refreshing. Before, it would have been easier to pull teeth with Logan than for him to give someone a decent heartfelt compliment. There was an air of gentleness and tranquility within him and it surprised, yet impressed, me. Before there was an untamed rambunctious beast; now there was a human being. "Thank you."

"You look expensive and uppity."

I laughed. "My closet may have changed but I assure you that I am the same me."

"I know." He paused. "I know. I'm happiest about that."

"I see you have changed yourself." I pointed to his body, taking another over drawn scan. Logan looked good before but heavens he looked picturesque now. "I see you have been hitting the gym more often and taken a point in not drinking as many beers as you used to."

"Nah, sorry darlin'. The beers are still the same and the weekly runs to my steak joint are still in full effect. I just intensified my workout routine and kept my mind clear."

"Your mind clear?"

He grew silent once more, turning away to look out the windshield. It was beginning to rain and the soft pattering of water dripping mixed in the symphony of the soft rolls of thunder created a familiar atmosphere. It was now dark and Logan and I were alone…in the middle of nowhere…in the rain. I reached on the side of my seat and pulled the lever that moved my seat back. I set my purse in the backseat and rested against my head against the headrest. I reached up to the dashboard and pressed the button that moved the sunroof. I began watching the soft cries of the thunderstorm pelt gently against the thin layer glass. Logan eyed me for a moment before resting his seat back, joining me.

"I missed ya' sumthin' terrible, Ro'." He whispered.

"I missed you too Logan."

He reached for my left hand and held it firmly in his, gazing at the diamond ring placed around a single finger. He rubbed his thumb against it a few times, as if to make sure it was real. He raised my hand and laced his fingers in between the gaps of my own, kissing it. "I am sorry…"

"Logan…"

"No, lemme' finish, Ro'. I am sorry for hurtin' ya', breaking your heart, sleeping with both you and Jean, everything. I'm sorry, Ororo. I never wanted to do something like that to a woman I loved…still do…"

I remained quiet for a moment. I never heard Logan apologize, let alone actually mean it when he half-way tried. Logan was a unique man that suffered a life of pain only few could relate to. It could be understood as to why he was so astute yet solitary. He had everything and everyone he had ever loved ripped away from him without so much of a justified protest. He had been abused, mistreated, and manipulated by those he thought he could trust. He was forced to become more carnal than human and shaped into the perspective of self-indulgence over community prosperity. Back when Logan and I dated, I used his past to justify his present, making excuses for him and his behavior. The infidelity, the lying, the uncontrollable rage that would often times scare me speechless after another intense argument; I would blame it all on the wrong doings that were done onto him and see it as a delayed reaction. It never justified any of it, only made it seem less important than what it really was. I began to shed tears. I never realized how much hurt and pain I was harboring because of Logan's deceit. I loved him with every fiber of my being and endured so much unnecessary bull throughout the years that I never knew how much it left me scorned and bitter. I remember when I first met T'Challa that I was incredibly guarded and suspicious of him. I would not even let the man hug me, let alone kiss me after our dates. I have been so bitter and angry towards Logan for putting me through heart-wrenching agony that I built a wall to block anyone from coming into my heart and me from putting myself out.

I snatched away from him, sitting erect in my seat. I threw an empty cup at him and a few objects left I the ash tray underneath the radio but it did not inflict nearly as much pain as I wanted him to feel. He began to say something but I cut him off with a hard, stinging slap to the face. I didn't mean to hit him initially but after I saw him flinch in pain and sulk in misery for a few moments, it all became worth it. He held a hand to his cheek as he growled lowly, swearing and apologizing at the same time under his breath. I needed air immediately. Rushing out the car, I slammed the door shut and walked into the rain. It was picking up speed, forceful winds with whispers of mist kissing my face as thunder clapped loudly. I took out the elastic holder that held my ponytail and allowed my hair to flow freely against the loud cries of wind. I removed my damp cashmere sweater, blue jeans, and heels and tossed them in a nearby corner next to a patch of poison ivy. I could hear Logan call out to me, yelling for me to get back into the car before I caught phenomia. I ignored him and lifted myself up into the heart of the storm, releasing bolts of lightning. Claps of thunder coursed through my veins, rain kissing my flesh as I intertwined myself into blankets of wind. I flashed more lightening, intensifying the rain as it began to beat against the water like an angry drum. Darker storm clouds loomed over the lagoon as the cloak of night kissed the woods like a love song. My hair clung to my body like a strait jacket as my undergarments became a second skin. I began shivering, my tears not being distinguished from the droplets of rain that rested beneath my lashes. I screamed into the heavens and played an orchestra of lightening into the night sky.

I went on like that for almost five minutes before I settled down. I kept my eyes closed as I lowered myself onto the graveled pathway of the dock. The rain had let up into nothing more than a quiet storm as the thunder moved out west. Logan rushed up to me and sheathed my quivering body with his leather jacket. I remained quiet as he pulled me into his arms and held me, almost crying. I grasped onto his white undershirt and breathed in his scent; his cologne, cigar smoke, and sandalwood. I nestled deeper into his warmth and allowed him to sweep me into his arms. He was dripping wet but seemed unfazed. I began to speak, trying to find the right words to say; but he stopped me. He placed his lips against mine for a passionate kiss. My mind told me to pull back and reinforce that I was a happily married woman with a husband that loved me more than life itself; but my heart would not allow it. Instead, it told me to deepen the kiss and give into my unsung desires. I knew in my heart of hearts that as much as I loved T'Challa with every breath in my body, I would always love Logan. Seeing him again only reawakened a side of me that I thought was lost forever. All I kept telling myself was that I was married, married to a man I was two weeks pregnant with our first child together. My heart told me otherwise; that the man I should be married to was Logan and the child I should be carrying should not be fathered by T'Challa but my beast. A wave of guilt washed over me and I pulled away, ashamed, embarrassed. Logan had brought me back to the car and set me in the passenger seat, going back near the lagoon to retrieve my forgotten clothing. I brought his jacket closer to me, looking at my ring finger. I loved T'Challa and he was my life. What I was doing was not fair to him or Logan. As much as I wanted to relive the past, I could not. I was set into the future with a husband and a baby on the way. T'Challa was the man I loved, but the feelings for Logan never truly faltered. I watched silently as Logan got back into the car, throwing my damp clothing in the back seat. He looked at me, leaning in for a final kiss that I gave him with the tip of my index finger. He stared into my eyes and understood, pulling away and quietly pulling off onto the expressway and onto the mansion where we were supposed to be an hour ago. T'Challa was my future, and Logan was my past. It was better this way.


End file.
